Monday, October 31, 2005

I do not want to blog today.I have nothing good at all to say.I’m tired, I’m sick, I’m grumpy, I’m mean.I’m so sick and tired I’d like to scream.

My job still sucks, that’s nothing new.I’d like to have something fun to do.I finish my work in ten minutes flatThe rest of the day is spent bored off my ass.

It might be payday but I’m already brokeI have enough left for the month to buy me a cokeBills to pay, presents to buyMy visa bill makes me want to cry.

The dog wants out, the kid wants fedThere’s a pain in my side and one in my head.I can’t go to bed it’s only ten past eightBut it’s dark outside and it feels so late.

I wish someone were here to bring me some snacksTo hold my hand and rub my backTo bring me some soup, say it’ll be okayIt’s almost over, it’s just a Monday.

Tomorrow will be better, it has to be I’m sureBut for this case of the doldrums, I’m afraid there’s no cureI’ll suffer through, I’ll try to surviveA better blog tomorrow, at least I promise to strive

So goodnight fellow bloggers, goodnight to you allSleep well on Hallow’s Eve, sleep well through it allTomorrow is a fair Tuesday, a better day I hopeIf nothing else it’s not Monday, and with that, I can cope.

The Pats pulled off the win. Not that there weren’t a few tense moments in there, but even if they had lost, the return of Tedy Bruschi to the line up tonight was a lesson to be savored. As Tedy put it, “Life’s biggest regrets aren’t things that we did, but things we didn’t do.” Death does not always announce it’s arrival at our doorstep. As Tedy teaches us, let it at least catch us doing what we love. And doing what we love with passion. Thanks for the reminder, Tedy. Even if the Patriots' season doesn't improve, even if they are unable to defend their Super Bowl championship in Detroit this year, we have been reminded of what it all should really be about.

(For those of you who don’t follow football, Tedy Bruschi is a defensive lineman for the Patriots who suffered a minor stroke three days after the Super Bowl last year caused from a small hole in his heart. He had surgery to repair the hole and had not intended to return to the playing field this year, but instead was cleared by more than 10 doctors to return to the game that he loves. Tedy is the heart, the soul, the attitude, the leadership, the wisdom, the direction and the passion of the Patriots Defensive Line.)

Sunday, October 30, 2005

What a great day! First of all, getting an extra hour just for the sake of some daylight rocks! It means sleeping in without really even trying. I finished up the work that I brought home this morning, took a shower and headed to the Bark Park with Gabers. We saw Tucker, Molly, Mackenzie, Killian, Cole, a whole bunch of newbies and three miniature Pinschers with hoodies on! It was a GREAT day at the park. Gabe impressed everyone with his ability to drool, winning the “gross award” from three brothers that were there. Job well done, Gabe!

On the way home we stopped for a quick dog-bath. It was gorgeous outside, the perfect day for a quick scrub down. For the rest of the day, Gabe has not moved from his spot next to the couch, snoring so loudly at one point that I could feel the vibration through the furniture. THAT is a happy dog.

Came home for some Nascar and football. Despite his busy schedule with Halloween and walking under ladders and such, my big ball of black fur, Jonah, snuggled up with me on the couch and convinced me a nap was in order for the day. Great idea!

Now I’m watching the Eagles lose, a precursor to the Patriots great win tonight, I hope. (There is no better day in football for a Pats fan living near Philly than when the Eagles lose and the Pats win.) If nothing else, it’s the return of Tedy Bruschi on Sunday Night Football. It doesn’t get any better than that.

It’s time to light some candles, light the pumpkins, fix some dinner and um…oh, more football! I hope everyone out there enjoys their Sunday as much as we are!

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Things about my day that I found a new found adoration for:1. The little button on my keychain that unlocks my car doors before I’m even there.2. An umbrella that not only pops open with the push of a button, but collapses with the same push of a button.3. The internet on my office computer4. A hottie in line at Panera’s.5. Making LM blissfully happy by spending $3 on a new Star Wars comic book.6. Dropping off the mail and depositing money in the bank without ever leaving my warm, dry car.7. Frozen dinners that cook almost on their own and are ready to eat in 20 minutes or less with little to no effort.8. A phone call from George thanking me for the movie “Wobots” for his birthday.9. A voice on the phone that tickles my soul.10. Watching “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” for the first time when I’m 34 and my kid is at his dad’s.11. Knowing payday is 24 hours away.12. Warm, soft, comfortable jammies, a blanket and kitties to curl up with.13. Watching The Amazing Race.14. Not having to do the dreaded work I thought I would be doing tonight.15. A dog with a big enough bladder to handle only going out a couple of times in the cold and rain.16. Did I mention the hottie in line at Panera’s?17. Half a tank of gas.18. New wellies for walking the dog in the rain.19. A hot bowl of popcorn.20. Going to bed early.

Our secretary is out with a bad back today. And I forgot my lunch. Which means I had to go out in the pouring rain to get a lunch today and since the secretary is out, I had to pick up lunch for my boss, too. I went across the street to Panera Bread. I had called the order in a half hour ago, but when I arrived I still had to stand 5 deep in line to pick up my food. And that was just the “take out” line. The line for eating in was about 25 people long and ran into my line.

Which is how I noticed him. While I hate to admit it, it was his resemblance to a past boyfriend from the back that caught my attention. Except that he was taller. And had a bigger ass and totally the wrong jeans on for it. But when he turned in my direction (out of boredom knowing he was never actually going to eat until somewhere around 3pm at the rate the line was moving) he was beautiful. Ahhh, the very short dark hair, the goatee and amazing blue eyes, long sleeved dress shirt with a thermal vest – the kind of man who eases into winter with grace - and no wedding ring. Sigh.

So, I started debating. How do I go from the “take out” line to the “dine in” line even though I’ve already called in my order? He already had 5 people behind him in line, so I couldn’t even get close enough to really strike up a conversation anyways. And what to say, “Uh, I, Uh…”

I gawk at the back of his head until it’s my turn to pay and it turns out my lunches are still not ready and I need to go down to the other end of the restaurant to pick them up. Aha! Now I have an excuse to at least go near the man. And I do. I even touch him. I tap his shoulder as slightly as possible and say “excuse me” as I walk past to get on down to the other end. Where I have to wait again. But to watch him now would mean I’d have to stare straight at him and that seems rude. He’s 20 feet away now, I can’t talk to him here.

So they give me my lunches at long last and I see there’s no good way back through that line even if I wanted to bump into him again, so I slip out the back door, back into the rain and back to the dreadful office.

I will never meet a great guy because I’m too busy pecking corn kernels off the ground.

Sunday, October 23, 2005

When I was a little girl, my mother gave me a nickname. She was the only one who ever called me by that name and she used it through all the years it was cute, then embarrassing, until it was endearing to hear it. After she passed, my dad, who had never called me that name before, called me that once, and the moment it came out, we all knew it could never be said again. Last year, when my sister was building her house, she called me on my birthday and said, “you’ll never believe what came up on our porch today and made itself at home.” I knew right off it had to be a cat, and the poor thing had picked the house of the most cat-hating people in the world. I immediately felt so sorry for it, as I always did for all the kitties I’ve ever met. For the few days that the kitty stayed on their porch, my sister called it by my nickname. It WAS my birthday that it had shown up on, after all, she said. (By the way, the nickname is the name of this blog)

Somehow, giving people nicknames has been something I’ve always done. At least to the people that really matter. My brother is called by either his full name or “G.J” to most of my family, but to me, he’s usually “Bud” or “Buddy” and sometimes, “G”. I like to find my own special name for people, somehow demonstrating the uniqueness of the relationship. My brother in law has always been “Bear” to me. Little Man even calls him “Uncle Bear”.

I am the proud Aunt of one niece and one nephew, Emily and Robby. Emily will be 9 in December and Robby will be 5 on Tuesday. I live 12 hours from my sister and her family but I still strive to be the “cool aunt”. It’s actually not very difficult considering their other two aunts, but I still take it upon myself to lead them to great mischief, to sleep in the kids’ room and eat at the kids’ table when we’re all together and to give the best (read that “most annoying to parents”) gifts of all time. Emily and Robby have 3 aunts. To make the competition fiercer, we are all named, "Amy". Three Aunt Amys.

Emily was the girl name I had picked out when Jacob was born. My sister seemed to think it was fair game since I had a boy, never considering that I might still want that name for future children. (Let’s not dwell on the fact that I’ve had no children since.) I wasn’t all too happy about this decision, but I must say I handled it with Grace. Oh no, wait, that’s her Emily’s middle name. Emily Grace. Right. I did handle it well, though. I just handled it silently. So, when Emily was born 7 months after my Little Man, I felt the need to call her anything BUT Emily. Quite honestly, her nickname came so easily I couldn’t avoid it. I have a picture of her somewhere as a very very newborn baby with this head of dark hair, and she’s lying on the table screaming her head off. She looked to me very much like a little bird waiting to be fed. Honestly. You’d have to see the picture, but you’d totally agree. So, from that point forward, Emily has been “Little Bird”.

I’ve called my son a number of things over the years, but for the longest time he was “Bocaj.” He only recently graduated to “Little Man”. Bocaj arrived when he started preschool and he would write his name at the top of all his papers in beautiful lettering, only it was totally backwards, so I would say to my Jacob, ‘Wow!! This Bocaj really did a great job on this paper!” And it stuck. As all good nicknames do. I still call him Bocaj, and I write it on his brown bag lunches when they have field trips and such and it’s still part of why he thinks I need medication. I even do his last name backwards. It’s very clever. His schoolmates think he’s got a psycho mom. Maybe that came from me writing “Monkey Brains” on the lunches. Hmm…

When Robby was born five years ago, no nickname jumped right out at me. He was all boy right from the start, but I knew it would take awhile for a great name to form.

A couple years ago, we all gathered at my dad’s house in Tennessee for Christmas. It had been many months since I had seen the kids, so when I saw Robby I was teasing him that I couldn’t remember his name. “Who are you?” I kept asking him. So I started making up names. “Are you Bill?” “Nooooooo!” “Are you Benjamin?” “Noooooooo!” and on and on it went. For hours. I’d ask, he’d answer, “no!” and then run off giggling. So pretty soon I just declared that his name MUST be George. It MUST be, I said. I was certain of it. And since he wouldn’t tell me his real name, I just proceeded to call him George. And of course, to sing the “George of the Jungle” song at every turn. Being the cool-Aunt-that-teases, that’s what I’m supposed to do. So George decides he doesn’t like this. He runs off to tell his mom that I’m calling him “George”. His mom tells him to call me something silly back.

And that is how I became “Aunt Fred”.

To this day, on all correspondence, when I talk to them on the phone, at all times, they are Little Bird and George. And the kids just eat it up. They love their special names. I get an earful of giggles and fighting over who gets to talk to Aunt Fred. It’s absolute joy to have made my name as their favorite Aunt, even if it is as “Fred.”

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

O Gabriel, O Gabriel, whatever were you thinking?Your odds of survival are so greatly sinking.It wasn’t enough to eat the couch pillowsYou had to take it up a notch and sink to new lows.

O Gabriel, O Gabriel, what is going on?We love you and adore you from dusk till dawn.We talk you for walks and out to the parkWe don’t even yell each time that you bark.

O Gabriel, O Gabriel, today of all daysYou made a choice, now the price you must payFor sneaking in LM’s room is forbidden and wrongAnd now we are here, singing this funeral song.

O Gabriel, O Gabriel, you might be as big as a horseBut you know it was his favorite, of all things – STAR WARS?!The book was too precious for you to just chewNow there’s little else left for me to do

O Gabriel, O Gabriel, I hate to announce this newsBut when Jacob comes home you’re going to loseYou life is on the line, it was his favorite bookI don’t expect for this one, he’ll let you off the hook.

O Gabriel, O Gabriel, you’d better run and hide.If he doesn’t kill you this time, you might wish that you had died.He’ll make your life miserable, you know this is true.He’ll take away your bones – all the things you love to chew.

He’ll tell you, you were wrong and a bad bad dog.He’ll kick you to the curb, he’ll hit you with a log.But mostly he’ll be sad over losing his precious bookHe might even cry, or just give you “that look”.

Anyway, I think it’s hopeless, there’s little we can doAlthough I have one idea, quick, grab my shoes!We have to get going, we have to get mobile.I think the answer to your salvation might lie at Barnes and Noble.

Monday, October 17, 2005

Tonight we made soup. Well, not so much “we” but he did keep me company and I chopped every vegetable the produce aisle had to offer. Following my beliefs of the rules of “good cooking” we didn’t consult a recipe, we just dumped stuff in a pot. That is what soup is, right? Stuff dumped in a pot? I thought so. So we dumped. And we dumped and we chopped and we poured and we stirred and we boiled and we ooh’d and aaaahhh’d over the great aroma that took over the house.

Fall has officially arrived in our house.

At dinner, LM proclaimed this soup “Delish!” and declared me “the best cook ever! Even in the whole world, Mom!” Wow. I think I blushed a little. So I told him it was a good thing it turned out so well because we have enough for 18 more meals.

His face turned sour.I guess it wasn’t THAT good.

(I assured him we didn’t have to eat it for the next 18 meals consecutively and that cheered him up a bit. Whew, nice save, Mom.)

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

2 Bridget Jones movies (they are all about me, minus the accent and have a happy ending that gives me hope)1 Serendipity – one of my favorite romance movies of all time.1 margarita (okay, maybe by night’s end, 2)1 dish of leftovers (read that: no cooking for me tonight)1 blanket2 pillows1 set of comfy warm jammies1 couch all to myself3 lit candles that smell like pomegranate1000 bath bubbles1 episode of “Lost” with hunky “Jack” ahhhh…need I say more?1 book that I’m already well into to lull me to sleep2 apologiesa dash of breathing room

It might still be raining, there might be a chill to the air and I might have had a day at work so dreadful you wouldn’t even believe me if I wrote it all down, but I’m a happy girl tonight. Thanks for letting me vent. I feel much better today.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Twice a day I drive an hour to and from work. The commute is far from exciting, I often find myself half way to work without feeling fully conscious of having driven that distance already. About a third of my trip is on the local highway, both sides of the road bordered by trees which makes for the most scenic part of my drive. I try to at least enjoy that much of it and try to forget the 50+ stop lights along the rest of the route.

A few months ago now, I was driving along this stretch of highway, singing along to the radio as I always do and not really paying any attention to the cars around me. I pulled alongside a car to pass but noticed the car sped up instead of allowing me to pass. At the point this became noticeable and drew me out of my celebrity singing status, I looked over at the driver and he looked right at me, smiled and waved.

I was so caught off guard I didn’t know what to make of it. I sped up, pulled in front of him and resumed my place in line amongst all the other commuters. I turned the radio up a bit more and resumed my singing. It wasn’t but a mile or two later that this same car pulled into the passing lane, pulled up alongside me and kept pace with me. I was annoyed. I looked over and the driver said something I didn’t understand but looked kind of like “wow”. He smiled and waved.

I slowed down, making him pass me. It pissed me off. I can’t really give reason to it other than it was so incredibly out of the norm that I felt upset by the fact that I will ill-prepared for it. He pulled in front of me and then slowed down.

I must have flown past him going no less than 85, I didn’t care if I got pulled over, I figured I could say there was a creepy guy on the highway who was bothering me. (I’m sure that gets a girl out of ticket.) He didn’t try to keep up and at some point along the way he must have turned off.

I thought about it all day. I thought about it each time I got in my car for weeks afterwards. Did some guy try to actually hit on me on the road?!? And was I such a dork that I blew off the only man to hit on me in this decade? Or was this some psycho guy that does this to all women he sees on the highway? I had no answers and only a strange curiosity brewing in my gut that made me wish I had handled things differently that day. I can’t say how, I can’t even figure out now a logical solution that would have told me this guy’s intentions.

Today, as I’m driving that same stretch of road, I thought about that guy again. I haven’t thought about it in awhile, and I don’t drive the stretch at the same time anymore, but I wondered about it nonetheless. Today, however, for the first time, I wondered if it had happened on a Wednesday. I had never thought of it at the time and it’s far too long gone now for me to know if it was but it would be significant towards finding the answer.

Around here, we have a local radio station that in all their “cleverness” (read that Male dominated listenership) decided to create bumper stickers that say “W.O.W.” I suppose if you didn’t know any better you’d never think a thing of it, but if you’ve heard them talk just once, you’d know it stands for “Whip ‘Em Out Wednesday” the day when they think women should randomly flash other drivers just for kicks. Yes, I see. All this is the result of testosterone set loose in a small studio. And they pay these men? (Editor’s note: the men reading this are thinking “What a clever idea! Why didn’t I think of that sooner? I wonder if my radio station would start such a promotion….” The women are gasping, thinking surely I am mistaken. There’s no way men would be that obvious about wanting to see boobage… oh, but yes, they are, and no, I’m not kidding.)

These bumper stickers abound in my area. Why did it never occur to me that THIS is what this man might be suggesting?

Now, maybe he was and maybe he wasn’t. If he was, I certainly wasn’t going to oblige no matter what. He would have been disappointed with his request regardless. But I have to say that there was a piece of me that liked thinking that some strange man on the highway waved just cause he thought I was cute. And not cause he was testing out the wonders of W.O.W.

Sunday, October 09, 2005

Sundays usually mean a trip to the bark park, leftover pizza, football and not much else. This morning we had rare knock on our door. I sent LM down to answer it thinking it was a neighbor kid finally coming out after all the rain. Instead I heard an adult male say, “Hey Jake, have you seen Chelsea?”

Chelsea is LM’s best friend. She is two years older and attends the Christian school in town and with all the extra-curricular activities she’s involved in, they don’t see each other very often anymore. She used to live almost next door and now lives about two blocks away, just around the corner. LM is one of the few kids in the neighborhood that Chelsea’s parents will let her play with. Neither of them swear or get involved in any of the typical mischievous behavior typical around here. They both love Star Wars and have imaginations that fuel each other. Chelsea is great for LM, giving him a dose of what having a sister might be like.

Here, at our door this morning, is Chelsea’s dad saying the words that turns the stomach of every parent. “She’s been missing for two hours.”

LM and I both ran to get jeans on and head out the door. LM far ahead of me, his concern palpable. I grabbed Gabe and headed out, fighting the tears as I could hear other neighbor kids walking on the nearby railroad tracks hollering, “Chhheeeeeelllllsss” It sent shivers. I followed the sound of the voices and saw Jacob. I just wanted to hold onto him, with the uncertainty of why Chelsea was missing still lingering.

Her parents were outside their home, you could tell there were neighbors and other kids searching all over the area. Her mom, pregnant, was obviously stricken. LM caught me up on the details. Chelsea had taken the dog for a long walk this morning and then came back home to fulfill her every-Sunday chore of picking up the dog messes in the yard. The scooper was back where it belonged, it was obvious she had completed the task, but there was no sign of her. Her mom added that she was still in her jammie pants.

They had called the police, but thus far no sign of them. Relatives were out in vehicles scanning the area in as many directions as they could.

I hadn’t been there but 5 minutes, trying to gather what else needed to be done, or what area LM and I could cover when they received a call from Chelsea’s grandmother and aunt who said they found her, by car, out on Old Bethlehem Pike. While relief waved over all of us standing there, the question still remained…how did she get all the way out there? It’s at least 10-15 minutes by car. Her bike had apparently been thrown away awhile ago, so no explanation was left as to how she might have made it out there.

After what seemed like forever, the car pulled up that contained the missing child. Grandma signaled from the front that just Mom should come over and I realized that there was no foul play involved, it had been an accident, or a reaction to an argument or something personal with Chelsea. LM and I walked home, getting out of the way of the reunion.

The feeling of loss, the complete fear and helplessness will not soon leave me. I was so scared for her parents. So frightened for what might have been. I know that Chelsea did not need a single reprimand, the crowd waiting her arrival back home was certainly a signal to the severity of the situation.

LM learned a lesson the hard way. He was able to articulate so clearly to me how scared he had felt and that he understood why I need to know where he is, or to check in from time to time. He had been as scared as any adult there today.

We are so thankful that this had a happy ending today. We are so grateful for Chelsea’s safety and that the suffering on her parents was limited to a matter of a few hours and not days. We may never know the whole story and it’s not our business to know. But I am ever-more grateful tonight to have LM here where I can set eyes on him. As our children grow and we begin to see their wings unfold, it can be nothing short of torture on a parent to trust them with their new ability to fly.

Saturday, October 08, 2005

I am single and a mother. Translated from Greek into Latin, to Arabic and back into Swahili, that means “One who sleeps with one eye open and never closes the bathroom door for fear of what might happen”. It has been a long time since anything disastrous happened in the 6.2 seconds I need in the bathroom (you have to make it an art of speed when you have children) but still, old habits and fears die hard. Plus, my bathroom is off a little alcove in my bedroom, the room where LM is not permitted, so I have little to no need to ever actually close the door. (ed.note: if ever there comes a significant other into my life, the door WILL close. I am a bashful pee’er and I just don’t desire that sort of intimacy.)

Over the years what has happened is that my pets have seen this moment of solitude as their moment for some attention. I am, after all, a captive audience. Usually it is Scout who seems to sense the exact moment I head in that direction and follows me in. She’ll be so close on my heels sometimes that I nearly step on her. She comes in and in typical feline fashion has to rub against my legs, against the counter and move just far enough out of reach that I can’t possibly pet her and then ‘mew’ at me to remind me she’d like a little love today. It’s the ‘mewing’ part that means disaster. Gabe can hear a ‘mew’ from 100 yards away and knows that the kitties don’t talk to themselves, they talk to ME, which means someone is getting attention and it’s NOT HIM. He comes running. All 200 pounds. Into the room that is big enough for only one being of that size.

As I mentioned, my bath is down a little alcove in my room. Which means, Scout is in trouble. As Gabe rounds the corner in the hallway, she senses her doom. What follows is a complete mêlée with me innocently in the middle. Fur flies, the cat growls, the dog gets all worked up and I end up scratched in an inexplicable location from one or both of the beasts. Eventually, Scout will make a bold dash right under Gabe’s legs for a daring yet successful escape.

In the meantime, Jonah has wondered what all the ruckus is all about and has come to watch. He will sit just inside my room where he can view the action while staying out of Gabe’s line of sight. Jonah wants to be a part of everything but he’s more than willing to let Scout be the sacrificial lamb if necessary. Trouble is, the moment Scout makes her escape, Gabe will certainly turn to run after her and will catch the blissfully-unaware-Jonah off guard. Jonah will turn into panther-cat, fluffing himself up to the size of a cat about his original size only with fluffed fur, and will hiss and spit and slap Gabe for all he’s worth. Luckily for me, the battlefield has moved outside of the bath, but unluckily I am still unable to pass by as Gabe is now cowering in the hallway afraid of his very next breath and the smack he will receive from Jonah for having dared to even breathe it.

Intervention is now necessary. I have to talk Jonah down from his fit of anger and remind him that he did step into the other beasts’ business when he should have just minded his own. Then I have to remind Gabriel that he is 12 times the size of the cat and surely he can walk past and on out of my room before the day is done. For myself, I have to push past the dog to get back out into my room and into the rest of the house to find out what LM has been up to during this entire time. Oh, and to get the vacuum to clean up the fur that’s all over my bathroom floor. Apparently, "bathroom" translated actually means "Battleground for attention-starved animals". Who knew?

Friday, October 07, 2005

Can you tell how bored I am at work today? This is from Miladysa’s site (she is linked off to the right – over there – no, your other right…)

7 Things To Do Before I DieFall in love for the last timeTravel to IrelandSee my grandchildren get marriedGet published, somewhere for somethingLose weight (I don’t want the pall bearers complaining)Play the piano againMake a name for myself as the coolest Aunt ever7 Things I Can DoMake great applesauceMake my son laughWoodworkingScrapbookOrganize large and small eventsDesign marketing materialsGive great gifts

7 Things I Can’t DoTrustSing as well as I’d likePlay any sport well at allKeep my tupperware cabinet organizedRun a mileKeep a boyfriend (might have something to do with item #1 on this list?!?! Ya think?!?)Draw

7 Things I Say Most OftenI’m sorryI love youI can do thatAre you kidding?Absotively PosilutelyGabriel!Craziness

7 Celebrity Crushes(gotta say this a tough one, I’m not much for a celebrity, but I’ll do my best)Jack on “Lost”Matt DamonBrad Pitt (in Fight Club)Tom BradyTedy BruschiThe dude on CNN that was covering the hurricane in Mobile, AL….Tim McGraw

I woke this morning with a vague suspicion the day would be dreadful until I realized it is FRIDAY!! How can a Friday be bad?! If I can survive through 6 hours of work (I know, I’m one of those lucky ones) it’ll be the weekend!

After a shower and usual morning readiness routine, I joined LM in the kitchen while he ate breakfast. He was not much for conversation, he was engrossed in a book. I put several plants out on the deck knowing a good hard rain is coming this afternoon. I know they would appreciate the soaking. Usual morning chores done, we headed out the door to school. Jacob read during the drive and while we waited for the first bell to ring. There is a simple joy as a parent knowing that your child is an avid reader.

As I sat waiting outside of the school I noticed a dad walking his young daughter back home. He was carrying her “purse” that she must have wanted along for the walk. At one point, she ran off into the field of grass to chase a squirrel. He didn’t utter a word, didn’t shout for her to get back over there, just let her go and watched her run back over to him, sharing her disappointment when she was unable to snatch up the rodent. As I pulled away after the bell, I saw them again, but by now, two blocks from school, the dad had put the little girl in her pink skirt up on his shoulders for the rest of the walk. It was so cute, so touching, just such a simple joy to me.Turned on the radio a block further to hear “Sweet Child O’ Mine”. Man, that’s the way to start the day! Turned it up like I was back in high school and sang along with all the lyrics. Followed a hot guy on a Harley for several miles. Gas tank is ¾ full, even so, I noticed gas prices had dropped again. Down to $2.77. A little smile there.

Halfway to work I pass a mortgage broker who proclaims the latest interest rates on their marquee. I bought my condo two years ago and had to really scrape to get into it. Despite not having quite as much saved up front as I had initially wanted, I wanted to get in while the rates were so low. Over the last two years, they haven’t really increased much and while I’m delighted to have my rate, I’d love to start feeling like I got a bargain and it was worth the struggle. Today, when I passed the sign, it was the first time in 2 years that rates were up over a half percent over what I’m paying. Ahhh…now we’re talking!

I got to thinking about the conversation I had with my sister last night. They had to put their dog down over the summer (from old age) and just now started to think about a new puppy for their home. They went last night to look at a puppy (when you take the kids along, this means THAT PUPPY IS NOW YOURS.) They have to wait a week to bring it home, but they picked out a black Chow. (They had a Chow before, too.) I spoke with my nephew (whom I call “George” although that’s not his name, but that’s a story for another blog) and tried my best to get him all excited about a really stupid name for the dog just to give my sister a hard time. I tried to talk him into naming the dog “Yellow” but he didn’t like that. He thought maybe “Orange” would work, though. Through my giggles, I tried to tell my sister and she informed me that George had already named the puppy before he ever saw it. He wanted to name it “Buttercup”. Great name for a black male Chow Chow, don’t you think?!

About five miles from work I flipped radio stations (a habit I have) and found “Footloose”. You can’t flip from there! Had to sing along, remember the movie, remember Kevin Bacon…”You’ve got to turn me around and put your feet on the ground, now take ahold of your soul…….”Arriving at work I realized there had been an early meeting. A good thing for two reasons. One: I didn’t have to be at it. Two: There are leftover bagels.

I have one major task to complete every Friday at work. Once that is done I can kick back and do whatever else is on my desk or nothing at all if I prefer. Today might be one of those “nothing at all” days.

Saturday night is another great movie night with Jacob. I can’t wait! I never knew I could love a human being as much as I love this kid.

It was like speed-dating (although I can’t bring myself to do that so I’m just going on what I hear, I swear). 30 seconds into the interview I knew this job wasn’t for me and I spent the remaining hour and a half trying to talk myself down from standing up, shaking this man’s hand and saying, “I thank you so much for your time and for explaining in such excruciating detail why the other people have left this office and what painstakingly mundane tasks you would like me to accomplish while I sit behind a that wretched front desk posing to be a straight-laced secretary right out of the 1950’s, but the truth of the matter is, if you had taken any time at all to even GLANCE at my resume, you would see that my days of being someone’s assistant are far far behind me. You would notice a progression into the more creative, marketing side of business which you just stated you have little use for. Let’s face it, you called me in here because I am familiar with a unique database system that you use. I could do this job standing on my head, blindfolded with no arms, having never gotten past the third grade. You have told me far more detail about your current audit, your secretary’s leave of absence and the reason your loan officer is leaving. I think I noticed a theme somewhere along there. If none of this had truly frightened me away, however, the tour of the office would certainly have sealed the deal. In just trying to make it out the door, you decided to pause long enough to show me the mounds upon mounds of filing that “I” would be doing and the stacks and stacks of papers that demonstrate the complete lack of organization left in this company. The dust, the sense of confinement, the mountains of filing cabinets were all screaming in their silent office-supply ways “Stay away! Don’t come here! Run for your life!” So, while it may be important for you to know how soon I could start ‘should I be offered a position’, please realize that you asked me not ONE single pertinent question about my skills, background or career goals. I sent my letter of intent clearly stating my desire to remain in a professional, management position and you have clearly decided that putting me behind this dreadful desk and attaching a phone to my ear is what I meant by that. You have now told me exactly how I should drive to this office to cut down on travel time (although you added no less than 20 miles to the route, so I’m not sure how that worked out mathematically). You have told me when you will be prepared to make an offer and reviewed with me my salary requirements, which I do not know how you can even look at and think it goes right along with this job, but that is up to you. You could, quite honestly, offer me twice what I am making now and I would refuse, knowing I would go completely MAD within 4 days of working here. Thank you. For your time, for your complete and utter, albeit unprofessional, candor. I can now go home and know that I do not want this job without any debate without any guilt, without feeling like I should reconsider. And I will return to my completely crappy job tomorrow knowing that it is at least a smidge less-crappy than this would be. I appreciate the perspective.”

Monday, October 03, 2005

Had a personal agenda for what I needed to get done at work. Boss interrupted to say I needed to get an asinine mailing out to the membership on the topic-that-will-not-be-mentioned (only cause it pisses me off too much). This meant that me, the computer-literate, newsletter editor, employee with lots to do had to stick labels on envelopes and baby-sit the stuffing machine all day long to get this mailing out the door instead of doing something much more worthwhile with my abilities.

Stopped at the grocery store on my way home so the LM and I could have yummy dinner. Convinced myself that buying a 40 pound bag of cat litter WOULD save me money afterall, so I could surely suck up carrying it. Lord knows I carry Gabe’s 45 pound bag every other week. Upon arriving at the check out, I couldn’t for the life of me find my debit card. I paid with my credit card before reaching an all-out panic in the parking lot only to find the card in my purse, just NOT in my wallet.

Arrived home to find that Gabe had chosen NOT to eat anything today. He must have known the dog trainer was coming this evening. Dogs are intuitive, you know. Don’t let his sad brown eyes fool ya, he’s thinking in there.

Vacuumed, loaded the dishwasher and other tidbits before a stranger came into my home. Trainer was late, couldn’t find my door (I’ll admit, the numbering system here makes you wonder if the builder knows Jose Cuervo like I do.) She worked with Gabe for about an hour. Nothing remarkably astounding, but a couple good suggestions. (Gabe is awesome, but since I live upstairs, I have to leave him at the top of the stairs to answer the door and that leaves him the ability to play King of the Hill with unsuspecting house guests. Believe me, he wins. Every time.) At the end of training, as we talked about getting together one more time for some training at the park (‘How to Greet Other Dogs Without Scaring The Crap Out of Their Owners 101’) we realize this trainer used to stop in during our first puppy class over a year ago. Wait, wait, wait. So how long have you been a TRAINER?!? I was not impressed. Not sure we’ll keep the park date.

LM was starving by the time the woman left. He had been so patient, even went and took a shower to get it out of the way while he waited. He finally just came into the kitchen where we were talking and pulled the ground beef out of the fridge and set it on the counter in front of me. Subtle, and yet really kinda funny. It was 8:30 before the wee little lad had dinner. I had vowed not to eat after 7:30 anymore so I missed my window of opportunity for food. I packed up leftovers for my lunch tomorrow and talked with LM while he ate. (He was sending IM’s to my brother which were absolutely hysterical!)

At 9 o’clock – with football already on and I haven’t even been able to watch pre-game, I FINALLY get to take my bra off. I know you women out there understand that one. You men can just nod and say, “oooooooookay”.

It’s now just after 10, John Madden is annoying me tonight and I just can’t get into the game. I must be getting sick. I’m going to head to bed. I have an interview tomorrow and I have no idea what I’m going to wear. Not really a tough question except that the interview is after work, so I have to dress keeping in mind that I don’t want to raise suspicions at my office. Gotta love the challenge of playing the job hunting game.

I bid you all a sweet goodnight. UC and Fish, glad to see you’re both back into the blogging world. Poka, I was beginning to worry about you as well. You are the one who got me hooked on reading blogs to begin with (reading yours!) and then you just stop…for several days…on end….. do you understand the withdrawal that forces me to go through?! You all need to be more considerate of your readerships!! I’ve been forced to just blog hop again lately and let me tell you, that is a scary place out there! Between all the blogs in languages I can’t read to the various products for sale, porn sites and spam – oh and lest I forget, the 4,357 blogs with pictures of someone’s baby! It’s too much!! LOL

Sunday, October 02, 2005

I just stepped out of the bath, wrapped in my robe, hair up in a towel and my skin still radiating heat. I still need to ‘quip out my ears, comb out my hair and brush my teeth. My heart is still racing, my mind hasn’t calmed. Too many contradictions are dancing around, the kind that bring wrinkles, stress and the thirst for chocolate flavored alcohol (why isn’t there more of that?)

I won’t use the H word (hate), it’s rather strong, but here are things I strongly dislike. I’m not asking you to agree. Heck, I don’t ask you to even read! Anyone who wants to comment on the strongly methodical, analytical side of me that prefers life as-a-list can simply add their name to the bottom: 1. People throwing cigarettes out car windows. 2. People who brake approaching a green light.3. People who throw a cigarette out their car window while braking at a green light.4. Punting on fourth and inches.5. That I lack the necessary confidence to believe that sentiments expressed to me from men are only expressed to me and not to many other women as well.6. That I drive a sedan. A “Mom Car”.7. Parents that walk ten steps ahead of their children.8. Parents that threaten to leave their child right there because they aren’t behaving.9. Parents that count, bribe, threaten, plead and pamper their tantrum-throwing children.10. Parents that think there is no alternative to bribing, threatening, counting, pleading and eventually just giving in to their children.11. Job hunting 12. That in an effort to get healthier by drinking more water, I simply spend a third of my day in the bathroom.13. When the Patriots lose and the Eagles win. (To understand better, consider that I’m a Patriots fan that lives near Philly. Philly fans booed Santa. They are the first to say “nanananananana”)14. That I’m not naturally athletic.15. Monday mornings.16. Rap music17. Changing the cat box18. Putting slip covers back on the couches.19. Getting paid and being broke all on the same day20. Dieting.

Because I’m a generally happy girl, and because I prefer to focus on the good things, not the bad, I’d also like to include the things I love: 1. Grey in a man’s goatee (ahhh, sigh)2. Sleeping in 3. Eating a dinner I didn’t cook4. Love letters5. Tulips6. Seeing people hug their children in public.7. Opening a bottle of wine8. Finishing a good book9. Receiving drunk calls at 3am10. Black and white photos11. Scrapbooking12. Playing poker13. Infatuation14. A triple-header of my three favorite college football teams on Saturday15. Spontaneous road trips16. Kisses on the back of my neck17. My son’s laugh18. Cooking a huge pot of chili, a loaf of homemade oatmeal bread and a block of cheddar cheese for dinner on a cold winter night. 19. Sexy teeth. (I can’t explain it, but some men just have the sexiest teeth. Shoulders are a close second).20. Having solid plans for the weekend established on Tuesday21. Songs that lyrically, musically and rhythmically touch your soul.22. Daydreaming23. The smell of hiking through the woods in autumn.24. Holding hands25. People who aren’t afraid to apologize, nor too stubborn to accept mine.

I feel a bit better. Thanks for letting me both rant and to rave.

Sidenote: For those who have read previous posts, my brother is watching Extreme Makeover Home Edition again tonight and refuses to talk to me while he does. (He’s kidding).

It’s 12:26 on Sunday afternoon. 34 minutes until the busiest three or four hours of my week. I’m warming up my clicker finger. I’m clearing the path to the bathroom for quick visits. The phone is shut off, answering machine is on. At 1pm EST the Patriots, Red Sox and Nascar (Matt Kenseth) will all start their various sports. I need picture in picture in picture for this one. I can’t even begin to prioritize my viewing other than the fact that Matt seems to drive better when I don’t watch, so I’ll just try to check in on the race from time to time. This could be the clincher for the Red Sox to get into the playoffs so I’m going to want to watch as much of that game as possible, but with the recent injuries to the Pats team, I’m nervous about the season and want to see how they play against the Chargers today. It’s going to be hectic, there’s bound to be some cheering and some yelling going on from my couch.

Don’t worry, by dinner time all will resume to normal again and I’ll be able to sneak in a quick if not a bit late, Sunday snooze. Enjoy your Sunday afternoon, I know I will be! (As long as they all win!) Gotta go – need one more quick bathroom break and a bottle of water before the action starts! 26 minutes….